


Unconsecrated Ground

by Girleverafter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Run-On Sentences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girleverafter/pseuds/Girleverafter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been alone in his new apartment for half an hour when a knock, best described as ‘angry’, rattles his door.<br/>He’s pulling the door open, ready to ask dad what he forgot, when his gaze falls on one annoyed looking alpha werewolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconsecrated Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Written after receiving a fic request by cut-my-arm-off on tumblr, who enjoyed my ramblings at silverdreaming.

Stiles has been alone in his new apartment for half an hour when a knock, best described as ‘angry’, rattles his door. Scott won’t be over for at least another two hours, and dad just left for work, having helped him with the final boxes. They’re neatly stacked in the corner furthest away from everything, but he managed to remember to leave the two containing clothes on the floor for easy access. Stiles is telling himself that he’ll start unpacking tomorrow, but deep down he knows that at least one or two of the moving boxes will still be collecting dust two months from now.

No matter. He’s a guy with his own place. So far, it feels great.

He’s pulling the door open, ready to ask dad what he forgot, when his gaze falls on one annoyed looking alpha werewolf.

“Derek? Wha- Scott isn’t here” he moves quickly out of the way as Derek moves past him, huffing a “Not here for Scott. It’s raining”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Dude, you can’t just,” Derek stops in the middle of the room and turns, his scowl bigger than ever. Seriously, if his eyebrows lowers any more, he won’t be able to see.

“Yeah, no, don’t try that shit on me. I’ve known you for too long. I actually know that you have a fully functioning vocabulary beneath that artfully styled black mess you call hair” Stiles huffs, closing the door with exaggerated care, trying to get the message across. Some sort of message. Stiles isn’t sure what, but if he manages to annoy Derek, then it’s all good.  
“It actually is… raining” Wow, did Derek just do a Horatio Cane impression? Next he’ll put on his douchy shades and go “Burn baby, burn!” or something. But Stiles will cut the wolf some slack; his hair does actually look kind of wet, sad and droopy, and seeing as he either doesn’t know how to handle a zipper (unlikely. The guy wears pants) or that he just didn’t bother closing his ever present leather jacket (probably his ridiculous muscles got in the way); his dark grey shirt looks drenched, clinging to his skin.

Derek knows the secret to Photoshop creme, Stiles is sure of it.

“Well?” he prompts, stopping himself gawking at the unfair result of perfect genes standing before him. Derek looks weirdly annoyed, like the flat is Derek’s and Stiles is the one who invaded.

“You didn’t actually tell me you were moving. I went through your window this morning, and it was… empty” Derek is looking deeply troubled at this point, frowning at the floor now. The floor doesn’t give into his evil and dark powers. The same can’t be said of Stiles, instantly feeling guilty.

Wait, he has nothing to feel guilty about “Dude. I told you! Like, plenty of times, man!”

“When was that, exactly?” Oh wow, Derek is actually sounding offended. That’s new.

“Like, last month, you know, when we were walking in the woods. You know, looking for that killer horse. Or, maybe last week, when Deaton was teaching me that new ward” Yeah, he totally told Derek. No information was lost. Ha!

“You mean, when you said “I have too many things and too few boxes” and then the unicorn attacked? And when you asked if I’d divide my books equally into boxes, or just put them all in one, and then proceeded to lock yourself in a silence ward? Because I know you were talking, but you did kinda resemble a fish on land” Derek’s face is a ridiculous mix of smugness and annoyance. Stiles is actually kind of impressed that he’s pulling it off. Ok, not so much impressed as feeling an urge to punch the wolf in the face.

Been there, done that. Had knuckles hurting for days after.

“Yeees, thaaat…” Stiles’ voice trails off as he tries hard to think of other times he’s told Derek about the move. He knows he told him, but how was he supposed to know he’d suddenly get pop quizzed about it? Thank you, Derek Hale.

“I know I told you, but dude, you only ever listen to me half the time, anyways. Anyways, this whole conversation is beside the point. Let me repeat myself; Why are you here, Derek?” Stiles thinks that maybe his eyebrows are doing the opposite thing Derek’s are doing (yet again) and can feel them rising higher and higher as he, in his own opinion, waits for the explanation. It’s actually quite surprising just how little the wolf is saying. It’s been years since their communication has been this poor. Sure, there’s plenty of things they don’t tell each other; Stiles himself has settled on never, ever, ever telling Derek about his crush (even if Scott has been pushing. Scott’s powers of persuasion has been greatly weakened since Stiles figured out how to withstand the power of the puppy dog eyes) and there must be a thousand things that Derek International Man of Mystery Hale is keeping under wraps as well. Stiles doesn’t know. That’s the beauty of keeping secrets.

Still.

“Stiles,”

“Yes, Derek? Come on, use your words, you’re usually way more vocal than this, man” Derek gives annoyed huff in reply, eyes him with ‘for fucks sake’ written all over his face, before his shoulders slump a little. There’s a lot going on in Derek’s face, emotions flickering across it, and for someone who’s usually so careful with how much he shows, it’s kind of unsettling.

“Dude. Seriously, what’s up? You’re starting to scare me here. Is something up? Did I- Are we ok?” Stiles takes a few hesitant steps towards the alpha. Derek has a look of utter defeat on his face, and Stiles hasn’t seen that in years. Maybe one of the pack is hurt, and Stiles has been doing his usual pump action chatter (his default reaction to feeling pressured).

“Oh man, don’t tell me. It’s Isaac, right? That chick from the coffee shop is actually an undercover hunter? I told you. Fuck, I told you she was-“ He stops dead, staring at Derek’s hands clamping his arms in a grip just this side of being painful. “Derek? Wha?” is the alpha seriously blaming him for Isaac liking the wrong people? Really?

Apparently not.

The kiss is warm. A bit weird and dry too. But what do you expect from an ambush kiss? A sort of strangled, surprised mmphh! noise escapes him, before Derek pulls back an inch or two. He’s still holding onto Stiles’ arms, and it’s starting to get painful. The alpha’s eyes are intense as he searches his face and Stiles is fairly certain Derek won’t get much out of studying his expression right now. The only answer he’ll find is something along the line of “WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK WAS THAT?!” because Stiles whole face is one big question mark. His eyes are open wide, huge and staring in disbelief and his mouth has fallen open in surprise and utter incomprehension. Is this Derek’s new version of “Shut up Stiles”? Or maybe he’s just testing something entirely different? 

Oh no, Stiles can feel it, the words, they’re sliding out of his brain and heading straight for his tongue and vocal chords. There’s no way of stopping them.

“Did you just use me as your personal Big Gay Crisis litmus test?” Thank you brain. You could’ve at least tried to put it somewhat more nicely? Stiles is wincing, licking his bottom lip nervously and scrunching his face up as he waits for the answer (which will probably come in the form of violence). Surprisingly enough, Derek doesn’t move, not an inch. Stiles can feel the alpha’s breath dancing across his lips, cooling the moisture left by his nervous lick. Derek clearly isn’t going to hit him, so maybe he should stop wincing like he’s constipated? Yeah, good plan. Stiles relaxes, and casts a pointed glance down towards the vice-like grip on his arms.

“Do you mind? I bruise like a damn peach,” Derek loosens his grip, but if Stiles thought he’d let go, he’s in for a surprise; Derek simply lets his hands brush down the length of Stiles arms, then moves them to rest gently on either side of his hips.

“Did you get dozed with a lovepotion or something? Did fairies swing by and sprinkle you with sex pollen, or is there an entirely creepier type of Wolfsbane that you have yet to tell me about? Because really, I need to know this shit, if I’m supposed to be the keeper of knowledge and help you guys deal. Why are you staring at me like that?” Derek’s face is inches away, and even if this is a scenario that’s been a regular feature in his dreams lately, it’s weird and kind of uncomfortable when it actually happens. Especially seeing as Stiles still doesn’t know why Derek is here. Well, he can make a calculated guess. But that’s all it’s going to be, a guess. Stiles doesn’t like guessing, not anymore. He’s been in the fray with the furry beasts he considers family so many times (too many to count) fighting everything between heaven and earth. Stiles knows that he hasn’t seen everything the supernatural world has to offer yet, but he has accumulated such a vast knowledge of how to counterattack, how to heal, how to protect, that facing someone this familiar in such a strange situation is scaring him.

“Stiles, there’s no such thing as sex pollen,” Derek all but whispers, his voice low and almost sounding like a purr. He’s smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth curling up, stretching the soft skin of his lips. Stiles is staring at his alpha’s lips, Fuck, he’s actually staring at them now, and he can feel his pulse racing, the beating so hard that his heart might as well be trying to break through his rips.

“And, just to answer your question; No” Well that made him stop staring at amazing werewolf lips and shift his gaze to red glowing eyes instead.

“What? No, what?” What question? Stiles didn’t ask any questions. He’s the guy with the answers, not the questions. Yeah…

“No, this was not some sort of test,” there’s no hint of amusement or annoyance in Derek’s voice. If anything, he sounds sort of disappointed, or maybe sad.

“So the kissing thing… You actually wanted to- You’re saying you… What are you saying?” Stiles really should pull away now. He’s trying to have a serious conversation with Derek, and it feels like it’s time for revelations and confessions. Somehow those don’t quite go with standing inches apart, staring longingly (if a bit confused) into the eyes of your alpha.

“I’m saying that I think I love you, Stiles”

…

It feels like minutes goes by while Stiles’ brain is trying to reboot itself. Maybe it’s just seconds, but when it does get back online, he breathes in so hard, he swears his teeth are rattling.

“Oh my god! Derek, what the hell, man?! You usually tell people before you assault them with you fucking lips! Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” He might’ve been shouting, but Derek doesn’t wince or pull back. He actually pulls him just that bit closer, his hands tightening slightly on Stiles’ waist. This time it isn’t painful either, but even if he’d been all power and wolfy claws, Stiles suspects he wouldn’t have noticed, seeing as Derek is so close he has trouble focusing.

“I had planned to tell you. It just- it took me a while to get my head straight. That’s why I went through you window today,” the alpha laughs softly, averting that laser stare of his before continuing, seemingly talking to the wall and giving Stiles a close-up of his left cheekbone “heh, I actually had a speech all prepared, you know. Details and explanations, just in case you thought I was messing with you. And then I found your room empty, and I got scared. I called Isaac, but he had no clue. I called Scott then, and I actually had to go “I’m your alpha” before he cracked and told me you’d moved. I swear Stiles, I never get why he’s just fine with taking orders one moment, and then turns and fights me the next. Anyway, he told me and I thought “Why hasn’t Stiles told me?” You’re pack, you know you are, but I don’t have the same power over you as I have over the others. You’re human, and I thought maybe this was your way of telling me you wanted out. I guess I kind of panicked? Sorry” he eyes him out the corner of his eye, red fire still flaring around his pupils. Knowing the extent of Derek’s self control and then seeing the blood red glow helps to underline Derek’s words. Or maybe Derek is just letting the power shine through in an attempt to assure Stiles of his sincerity. Either way, Stiles gets it. He really does.

“We’re both idiots,” he mumbles before lifting his hands to cup Derek’s face, realizing that this secret of his is about to be revealed, gently pulling until he’s facing him straight on once more “really, the biggest idiots ever” he manages to whisper before he kisses the alpha. 

The kiss is slow and tentative, a wordless request and a clear surrender, and then Derek is kissing him back, soft lips brushing Stiles’ until mouths part and tongues touch. The slow wet glide pulls a moan from deep within Stiles, and he pushes closer, his body finally pressed against Derek’s, who groans in response, his hands sliding behind Stiles’ back finding their way underneath the layers of shirts.  
Stiles lets his fingers run through the black tousles of hair gently pulling at Derek, and they manage a sort of shuffle backwards until Stiles feels his back hit the door. This time he actually wants to be pressed against the wood, but he’s still thankful that there was no slamming involved, though he might want to try that another time, if this is what follows.

Derek’s fingers are surprisingly gentle as he lets them brush across the skin of Stiles’ back, gentle and soft. Stiles always figured they’d be calloused, but how he came to that conclusion he’s not sure. He makes a mental note to remember to adjust his fantasies accordingly. Not that he’ll have any trouble remembering this. He will never forget it; the pressure of Derek’s body against his, the intricate dance of their tongues, how Derek tastes, and how he smells of pine, leather, dirt and some kind of perfume that mingles with the rest of the scents in an amazing way. He’ll never forget the way that Derek hums softly, his chest vibrating slightly as Stiles fingers run down his neck and, and…

Oh, hello erection!

At any other point in time, Stiles might’ve been embarrassed. He is having a raging hard on, while in the same room with another guy. But seeing as said guy is the source of his arousal, he can’t say it worries him. Especially when he can clearly feel Derek’s body react just the same. This could lead to so many good things, and Stiles wants it, oh god, does he want it. He wants hours of it, touching and getting touched, finally being allowed to just enjoy and…

Fuck.

“Scott-“ he whimpers, and that makes Derek stop and pull back slightly, a confused expression on his face.

“What?” Stiles realizes how it sounded as soon as he sees the alpha’s mouth stretching into a thin line. Time for emergency protocol.

“No? Ew, god no!! Urgh, how can you even think- No, I don’t want to know!” he places his hands on the alpha’s ridiculously firm chest and narrowly resists the temptation to stroke it, settling on pushing Derek away “No, I’m just- We have to stop. As good as this feels right now, and fuck does it feel good. Really, you can’t help to notice how much I like what you’re- what we’re doing. But Scott is coming here in less than two hours,” Derek shrugs, then smiles and starts to pull Stiles back “No, dude! Seriously, I’m not trying to flatter myself and pretend that what this whole thing will lead to, is something that I can do for hours. Right now I think I’ll last less than fifteen minutes. But Derek, this is Scott we’re talking about, and as fun as it might sound to permanently traumatize him with the scent of his best friend and his alpha consecrating the new apartment, I’m pretty sure he’ll refuse to ever come here again” he offers Derek an apologetic smile, wincing again, because he wants this, damnit, but at the same time, he wants to take it slow, or at least wait till second date. Hell, they haven’t even been on a first date yet.

“Ok,” the alpha agrees, looking somewhat annoyed, but that’s understandable.

“Great. Awesome. Ok, uhm, do you want me to like, give you the tour of the place. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just trying to turn the focus elsewhere, alright?” Derek answers with an incredulous huff, before shrugging. Ok, then. Tour it is.

“Great,” Stiles pushes away from the door, turning away from the ridiculously good looking wolf and tries to grind the heel of his hand against his crotch without Derek noticing, moving it into a more comfortable position. From the sound of the laughter behind him, he doesn’t quite succeed in hiding his actions. Whatever. He turns back to face Derek.

“Ok, so. That over there is the bathroom. Snug, but there’s a big shower stall,” he wiggles his eyebrows, and gets a smile in return. Awesome.

“This is my living room slash bedroom slash kitchen. I call it my bitchen!”


End file.
